another desperate day of my old situation of not being wanted enough

writing about why i can’t have enough

professing with my sore heart
anywhere but safe, known and protected
hello earning protection from strangers via business and personally applied competence, risk; trying to open a gate, trying to create something where there’s nothing, based on what you think other people will be
trying to create what others seem to have
how goes the coasting amidst creation?
the creator’s problem is ultimate

get with others to be obsessed about rules and roles
just do your job
do you make it for yourself alone?
i’m under pressure — you care about you and speculative others

off to closing the gap between self and other(s) one at a time
patrolling and monitoring that distance

who are you telling
you are trying to ask
for what you need
but then you never got it
and get to watch someone else try to do it all

another test of mettle

i write about the desperation animating — — if i don’t step out

you don’t make money being a stripper, you make money being a matchmaker
you get bought off the floor for conversation, like a $600 geisha

he’s loudly confused but very still
still rumbling, still writing, really doing the writing of what we know to be true and hate facing again
because the gate should give
bash it down, buck; thrust that horned skull into the boundary
one more time

they love you when you’re at two days of runway, so glistening, so taking off, the electric burning thing they secretly are, if they weren’t covered with heart-hardening logic, money, familiarity, fear of the edge

how to plate the soul for adoption

now my life’s in the way of hers
love sucks one could say
i did not come from a loving love push